I try to wrap my head around everything the doctor is saying, but it's so fantastic, so out of the realm of everything I know, it's hard to imagine. Zombies are living creatures. It's easier to think of them as completely dead. That way when I kill them, slide my blade into them and put a bullet in their heads, I'm just making sure the dead stay dead.
I turn my gaze to Silas, helpless as the memories of who he was flood through me. Silas, the quietly confident man who gradually won me over. He took the love I eventually felt for him, delicately wrapped it up, and cradled it close to his own heart. Despite many of the things he did wrong both in the city and with the women of the harem, I can't hate him.
"What about him?" I ask, drifting back to touch the glass over his face. "Have you studied him yet?"
"Not much," Dr. Summers admits from behind me. "I don't want to do anything too invasive with him. If there's one that we're going to try to save, it'll be him, which means I can't harm him as I experiment."
A shudder ripples through me as I realize what she's saying. She will have to harm the others in order to get the answers she needs. I don't know why this bothers me, considering I’ve spent so much time killing them. But those kills, they were self-preservation. I was being attacked. This is different. Strapping them down, cutting them open, experimenting on them. It feels wrong.
Yet, I know that we need a cure. Or as close to a cure as we can get. Until that happens, humanity will never be safe. These few will have to be sacrificed in order to help create a new world.
Hand still on the glass, eyes locked with Silas’s dead gaze, I say, "He's not my husband anymore. He’s no longer the Warlord." I turn to Dr. Summers, giving her a level look. "Do what you have to do to get the answers you need."
She absorbs my words and then nods, her eyes dropping to the ground. I can tell her in the brief rounding of her shoulders, the heavy air about her, that she is not as unaffected by all this as she seems.
I reach out and wrap my hand around her arm, holding her for a second. "You can do this. You've already blown my expectations away. You will go down in history as the woman who cured Necrotitis Primeval."
I deliberately use the word ‘woman’ to emphasize her astounding accomplishment. In a world run by violent men, without the proper technologies, she has somehow managed to rise up to confront a virus that has crippled our entire planet.
Her shoulders stiffen and she raises her chin, giving me a sharp nod and stepping away, breaking my grip on her arm. "I’ll do whatever it takes."
I glance at Silas, biting my lip. I don't regret the decision I’ve made, but knowing that when I walk away from the lab it might be the last time I see him is a hard pill to swallow. "Can I… can I touch him?"
I shake my head at myself. I'm as good as the Warlord and here I’m asking for permission. Dr. Summers opens her mouth, probably to deny my request, so I repeat myself, rewording the phrase. "I want to see him." I turn to Kingston and Denny, who entered the lab with me and are now standing by the door watching our exchange. "I need you two to secure him please."
No one denies me, no one tries to stop me. They put the female zombie back inside the glass cage before attempting to lure Silas to the door so he can be recaptured and strapped down for my inspection.
When they finally wrestle him into a chair, we quickly strap his arms and legs, then pull back his head up with another leather strap. Dr. Summers insists on covering his mouth with a leather mask, so his bite is rendered ineffectual if he manages to get teeth on any of us.
"Please leave." I give the command without looking. I only have eyes for Silas in this moment.
"Skye…" Dr. Summers begins to argue.
I shake my head. "Please go. I won't be long and then he's all yours. "
I hear them shuffle out, though I don't turn around to watch. I know my time is limited; one of the guards will be radioing Wolfe about this. Once the door closes behind them, I reach out to take Silas’s hand. His fingers immediately curve into sharp broken claws as he attempts to dig his nails into my flesh. I readjust my hold, determined to keep touching him. Even though zombie Silas wants me dead, I still want him to feel the comfort of my touch.
"A lot has happened since I last saw you." Tears immediately fill my eyes, though I try to dash them away. "I fled the city like you wanted me to. I went with Wolfe and a bunch of other survivors to the Tucson Sanctuary where we were set up on the outskirts of the city. Except we were followed to the Sanctuary and had to endure constant attacks. It was awful."
I know he can't hear me. Not really. But I imagine that my voice is calming him. His unblinking gaze remains on my face and I hope that some small part of what I'm saying is getting through.
"I saw my sister there. She has a baby now and seems happy with her husband. Hannah is doing well too. Do you remember Hannah?" I shake my head at myself. "Stupid," I mutter. If even a small part of his brain has been preserved then he’ll remember Hannah, his longest held and most caring wife. The rest of him, the zombie parts, know nothing of any of us. "Hannah has been helping to create educational programs for the children living in the city. You would be proud of her. She’s still our sweet Hannah, but she's grown quite a backbone. One made out of solid steel."
Death and destruction will do that to a person. I'm a much tougher woman than I used to be. A warrior now. I don't tell him this though. If any part of him understands what I'm saying, I don't need him knowing how many zombies I've killed in the past year. His Primitive side might take offence.
"I'm with Wolfe now." I force the words out through a tight throat. I swipe at the tears dripping down my face. "I love you Silas, a part of me will always love you. My heart shattered when I was forced to leave you behind. I would have given anything to die at your side. But it's time for me to move on. This past year has taught me just how short our lives are, and I need to take advantage of the years I have left. Try to be happy. You know what I mean?"
Of course he doesn't know what I mean. I'm not going to get anything from him, so I decide to finish this. Sever the connection still holding us together and step into the future with my new love.
"Please don't hate me," I whisper, closing my eyes and allowing grief to settle over me. I just need a few minutes to allow the memories free rein, then I’ll pull myself together and walk away, leaving him to the experiments.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
The roar comes from behind me, startling me. I twist around on my knees to find Wolfe stalking toward me, his face twisted in rage, his muscles bunched, his fists ready.
I know he's not coming for me, so I leap to my feet and throw myself across Silas, knowing if I don't calm Wolfe down, he'll kill my former husband. He can't do that; we need Silas too much.
"Wolfe, stop!"
I've never seen him like this, blinded by rage. He’s a killer, yes, but he’s always in control. This is different. This is personal.
He blindly shoves me out of the way and I topple to the side. I immediately twist around to look as he sends his fist flying into Silas's face. Silas’s chair flies backward, shattering against the bench. Silas falls to the floor in a limp heap, unmoving.